


With a Child’s Heart

by reyiosa



Series: Star Wars Prompts [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Implied Child Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jaster holding a baby wookie: actually the jedi are cool now, Jedi Culture & Tradition (Star Wars), True Mandalorians, mentions of child death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyiosa/pseuds/reyiosa
Summary: Mand’alor Jaster Mereel was looking upon a sight that none of his predecessors had seen for nearly a millennium.
Relationships: Jaster Mereel & Mace Windu
Series: Star Wars Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973905
Comments: 23
Kudos: 322





	With a Child’s Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For Helen, who wanted Jaster visiting the creche.
> 
> There is a brief, frank mention of child abuse and child death. Please take care of yourself if these cause you pain to read.
> 
> I've also adapted a Buddhist tale to be a Jedi myth. Further details are in end notes.

Mand’alor Jaster Mereel was looking upon a sight that none of his predecessors had seen for nearly a millennium.

The interior of the Jedi Temple was magnificent. Jaster felt no need to hide his awe, but he did not let the grandness of the space overwhelm. He recognized what architecture like this was supposed to do.

The tour was a long one, led by the Master of the Order Mace Windu himself. From what intel Jaster could gather, he was the youngest to join the Jedi’s prestigious High Council in thousands of years, and his rise to Master of the Order was unprecedented. (Just like this meeting.) He was a stony-faced Korun Human, the embodiment of a rigid Jedi Master, but he spoke plainly and without the evasions that Jaster associated with Core-based politicians.

It was rather Mandalorian of him, if Jaster dared to say. (He didn’t; the peace negotiations between the True Mandalorians and the Republic were tenuous at best stage, and the Jedi formed a particularly delicate edge of the talks.)

Master Windu spent only a short while in the grand atriums before taking Jaster and his advisors through the more lived-in parts of the Temple. It was a show of good faith, especially after the True Mandalorians had done the same in their own palace in Keldabe. Master Plo Koon, another Council Member and student of the late Master Tyvokka, Jaster learned, had admired the community schools that taught clan children until the age of thirteen. 

In turn, Jaster had to admire the Jedi demonstrating their skills in the salles. Even with training sabers, the power and speed of the duels shown by the padawans and initiates—children no older than Jango and Arla, Master Windu explained—were impressive. 

Jaster suspected that the Archives would be the last stop on their tour. He never made a secret of his interest in historical documents and scholarship, and he’d already been in touch with the Chief Librarian, Master Jocasta Nu, about exchanging relics from the Jedi’s vaults to Keldabe for more information about Mandalorian culture and history. 

Spending an afternoon in the Archives would be an effective way to bribe Jaster, and he was open to it.

But then Master Windu announced in a close-ceilinged hallway that this was the final stop before a break for second meal. Jaster knew from his intel that this was not the Archives, but he let no surprise cross his face.

With a raised hand, Master Windu indicated that Jaster and his entourage follow him through a doorway into a carpeted room. Colored in earth tones like the rest of the Jedi living quarters, the walls and floor were rounded to meet each other, giving the impression of being inside a seed pod. All the furnishings seemed small and covered in soft blankets and easy-to-clean upholstery. Master Windu brought a finger to his lips as he gestured to the center of the room. 

There sat a flock of children, all in tiny Jedi robes, patiently paying attention to a Besalisk Jedi, who was speaking in low tones.

“...and so the Jedi sunk into meditation beneath the uneti tree, set to stay there until zie had understood the nature of the Force.”

The children followed the story in nods and fidgets. A few of them snuck looks back at Jaster’s group of Mandalorian interlopers, but they were quickly and quietly chastised by their peers.

“Mala and Ahch, the Dark Ones,” continued the Besalisk Jedi uninterrupted, “were angered to see the Jedi beneath the uneti tree. They had tempted the Jedi at every step of hir journey, and zie was close to gaining the final piece of knowledge zie needed to understand the Force.

“So Mala and Ahch tormented the Jedi in hir meditation. Mala, the angrier of the two, showed hir visions of the valley burning to ash, of hir family dying, or great wars being fought and laid at hir feet. He tempted hir with anger, grief, and sadness.

“But the Jedi just smiled and said with hir eyes closed, _There is no emotion, there is peace_. And zie continued to meditate, set to never rest until zie understood the nature of the Force.

“So Ahch, the cleverer of the two, tried something else. She showed hir visions of the most delicious foods, the softest fabrics, the greatest riches the galaxy could offer. She tempted hir with greed, desire, and pleasure.

“But the Jedi just smiled and said with hir eyes closed, _There is no passion, there is serenity_. And zie continued to meditate, set to persist until zie understood the nature of the Force.”

“This is the creche,” explained Master Windu once they returned to the hallway. “All force-sensitive children enter the creche when they join the Temple. It’s a dramatic period of change in their lives, which is why we make their quarters as soothing and comfortable as possible.

“You’re the first non-Force sensitives the creche has seen in quite some time,” added Master Windu, the corner of his mouth upturned.

This was an immense show of trust. The Jedi had to know of their reputation as baby thieves and children snatchers, a view all too common in Mandalorian culture. Jaster had to check himself on the first questions that came to his lips when the case of force-sensitive Mandalorian children came up.

“We never take children without the express permission of a guardian,” continued Master Windu, “except in the absence of...sufficient guardianship.”

“And what makes for insufficient guardianship in the eyes of the Jedi?” asked one of Jaster’s entourage—Ondi, a Pantoran who’d joined Jaster’s clan fifteen years ago. She’d been one of the more skeptical when it came to these negotiations of peace, but Jaster trusted her to remain fair and level-headed.

Her question was one Jaster was about to ask.

“The absence of guardianship altogether is one example,” answered Master Windu. His expression had returned to its prior stoniness. “In Republic space, we are empowered to act if we feel the child has been neglected or abused, but those cases make up less than one percent of our Searches.”

“Searches?” Jaster heard the capitalization in the word and had to ask. “You go looking for Force sensitive children?”

“Yes,” replied Master Windu. “Even in Republic space, knowledge of the Jedi varies a lot. We’ve become ghost stories at the farthest reaches, saviors in some places, monsters in others.” He took a pause, his expression wry for a moment before sobering. “And many Republic families do not have the resources to reach out for us in the first place, and that’s if they know such help exists.”

“You emphasize Republic space,” pointed out Khal Shuuvak, a soft-spoken Togruta and one of the oldest of Jaster’s advisors. “What about foundlings outside the Republic? Do you leave them be?”

“We have no official jurisdiction beyond Republic borders,” replied Master Windu, missing or not reacting to the Mandalorian phrasing. “But, if a Jedi in the Outer Rim comes across a child in need of guidance, we would not turn them away.”

“And if the child or their parents refuse?” Ondi crossed her arms over her chest. She stood a full head taller than Master Windu, but he met her golden eyes without fear or contempt.

“Then we accept their decision,” he replied evenly. “The children that come to us, we love them for the gifts they are. But we do not take what’s not freely given.”

“Except in cases of insufficient guardianship,” added Ondi. “In your esteemed opinion.”

Jaster gave her a sharp look, which she met without remorse. Master Windu merely seemed amused.

“Let me show you one last room before we break for second meal,” he said before starting down another set of hallways.

Jaster took the lead with a shrug, and his advisors followed him without question.

They stopped in front of a glass door that led into another pod-like room. But instead of earth-toned carpet and tiny furniture, the room was lacquered and stacked from end to end with tiny plastoid cribs. 

Every one was occupied with babies of nearly all species. Around the edge of the room, there were doors that led to water-based rooms, where tanks of tiny Nautolans and Mon Calamari swam happily, and ox-sensitive rooms, where kel dor babies were attended to by maskless Kel Dor Jedi and nurse droids.

The closest crib to Jaster let out an unearthly shriek, drawing the attention of the group, including Master Windu. There lay a curly-haired Wookiee no longer than Jaster’s forearm, wriggling and gnashing its tiny teeth.

A nurse droid was gliding over, but without another thought, Jaster picked up the child. It immediately set its tiny paws on his vambrace, bringing the armor piece to its mouth and gnawing at it with abandon.

“Ah, ah, ah,” chided Jaster. “That’s solid beskar, ad’ika. It’s not easily broken by your sabers, so it can’t be good for your teeth.” He turned to Master Windu, who looked like he was fighting back a smile. “What’s best for Wookiee teething?”

“I’ll see if I can find something,” replied the Jedi smoothly, but then the nurse droid that had been gliding over to Jaster stopped in front of the group of adults. The droid made no move to take the child from Jaster’s arms, and instead held out a string of colorful rubbery beads.

Jaster accepted the strand and wiggled a bead in front of the tiny Wookiee’s mouth. Once a fang caught on the rubber, it made a growly coo and set to gnawing the beads instead.

“The droid—AZA-4—says that that youngling has been going through teething toys by the pound,” said Master Windu. “That toy is made from a grade of rubber usually used to line starship airlocks.”

“Could have fooled me” remarked Jaster as he watched the kid munch at the beads with abandon. Already, indents were forming in the surface. 

“So where do all these babies come from?” asked Iirdun der-Boon, a Human who could’ve been a distant cousin of Mace Windu in appearance. “I thought that Jedi tended toward celibacy.” 

Iirdun was holding an Ikotchi child, its horns the size of flower buds. In fact, the rest of Jaster’s entourage had all picked up their own babies. Ondi had found a pair of Twi’leks to rock in both her arms. None of the children seemed particularly bothered by the handling, nor did the nurse droids.

“Celibacy is not a requirement of the Order,” replied Master Windu. He had a tiny Rodian in his arms now, rocking it carefully as he switched his attention to Jaster. “These are not the children of Jedi. These are babies left at our doors or shoved in the hands of mission-bound Knights.”

Jaster stared. The Wookiee in his arms, disgruntled with the sudden stillness, made a chirp so that Jaster would restart his rocking. It took a moment for Jaster to think through the words. “How many?”

“How many per year? Per month? Per week?” Master Windu’s tone was light, but tempered. If Jaster didn’t know better, he might call it exhaustion. “A crechemaster might know those numbers, but I know that one in eight Knights entered the temple at less than a year old.” Then the Jedi’s face fell further. “The survival rates of these infants is...a challenge for us. We have access to the best medical care that the Republic can ask for, but we have no control over the condition in which an abandoned child comes to us. Sometimes the best we can do is to give them the best love, care, and comfort we can before the Force reclaims them.”

Master Windu nodded his head towards the bundle of curly Wookiee fur in Jaster’s arms. “Parrrasoko there was on the edge of death for some weeks, I’m given to understand. But he’s made a complete recovery, and will join an initiate clan in three years, where he will learn alongside his peers until he is chosen by a Knight or Master as their Padawan. At any time, he may choose another path within the Order or outside it. Maybe he could even be a Mandalorian one day.”

Jaster raised a brow at that, but didn’t disagree. His people would take in anyone who swore to the Resol’nare. Master Windu nodded his head and continued. “No matter Parrrasoko’s path, we will hold him as our family. While he may not grow to be a Jedi, he will always hear the call of the Light, and we will always welcome him back into our arms if he so chooses.”

It took a while for Jaster to realize that the Wookiee child—Parrrasoko—had been wriggling less and less. His teeth-gnashing had lessened to idle gnaws as his eyelid drooped and the strand of beads went slack in his paws. 

“Nap time already,” remarked Jaster. The whole room of babies seemed to share the sentiment. The wall lights dimmed, and the nurse droids tucked each body into a blanket. Jaster and his Mandalorians returned their borrowed children to their cribs. Jaster let his fingers trace the Wookiee’s brow gently as Parrrasoko settled into snuffling snores. Something clenched in his chest. Even his harder, more cynical advisors looked softened by the view of dozens of sleeping baby Jedi.

“Perhaps we can work out an agreement for our children,” said Jaster in a hushed voice once they’d exited the sleeping nursery.

Master Windu raised a brow. “For the children of the True Mandalorians.”

Jaster nodded. “And the children of Mandalore, perhaps, one day.” Master Windu let the comment go, so Jaster continued. “We have our own ways in raising children who hear the Manda—the Force—but they have been faded and become brittle over time. Children are precious to us, and I do not want to surrender Mandalorians to become Jedi. But...” He let the words fade out, the tangled knot of emotions catching his tongue.

“But,” echoed Master Windu, his voice soft. “No decision has to be made today, Mand’alor, nor over an empty stomach.”

Jaster laughed at that. “Wise words. Lead us to where we may refill our bellies and make more difficult decisions.”

As they made down the hallway to exit the creche, Jaster overheard that Besalisk Jedi finishing their story with the initial clan. He stopped to listen. Master Windu stopped as well, eyeing him cautiously but without comment.

“And Ahch said to the Jedi, I have tormented you. I have tempted you with the finest things the galaxy can offer. I have told you the future and its many threads for you were you to give up being a Jedi. I have held a blade to your throat and killed you many times. Why do you offer to help me? Why would you help an enemy?

“And the Jedi replied, Because you asked.

“And once they finished their tea, the Jedi took Ahch as hir student. Together, they built the first Jedi temple beneath the uneti tree. The temple would come to be known as Ahch-to, to remember the first Jedi Padawan.

“But for Mala, the Dark continued to eat at his heart. So he went away and created his own temple, dedicated to the Darkness, the death of the Jedi, and the corruption of all life. His order, we know as the Sith.

“And so long as the Jedi exist, we will fight against the Darkness. It will torment us, tempt us, yes, even hurt us, but we have two powerful allies: the Light and each other. Remember this, younglings. You hold the Light in your hearts. You hold life in your hearts. You hold your fellow Jedi in your hearts. This is what it is to be Jedi.” 

**Author's Note:**

> The story of the first Jedi, Ahch, and Mala is drawn from the story of Siddharta Gautama finding enlightenment through 49 days of meditation beneath a bodhi tree. I’ve added a twist inspired by a talk by Thich Naht Hanh, retelling a story from the Buddha’s disciple Ananda: https://plumvillage.org/transcriptions/mara-and-the-buddha-embracing-our-suffering/
> 
> George Lucas didn’t just draw on Buddhism (specifically Zen Buddhism) to create the faith of the Jedi; he also reached into Taoism (for being immersed in nature), Zoroastrianism (the eternal war between good and evil), chivalry, bushido, and other sources. I’m most familiar with Buddhism, which is why I’ve used the tale of Siddharta. 
> 
> \--  
> Kudos are appreciated, comments are adored. Find me on tumblr @reyiosa.


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